


Rest & Respite

by elsewherewolf



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hope It Doesn't Suck Too Hard, I just want them to be happy, Loving on the ears, M/M, first thing I've written in ages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7451038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsewherewolf/pseuds/elsewherewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a bit of romantic fluff, really. Ander's still uncertain, whereas Allanon definitely isn't. Post S1E10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest & Respite

**Author's Note:**

> Afraid I've never read the books but the chemistry between these two characters on screen was pretty compelling. I know I'm not the only one who thinks so. :)

"Because you need to rest," Ander said, angling his body so that Allanon had no choice but to step across the threshold.

"Will you?"

Ander knew that his pain was written bright in his eyes, but he nodded anyway. "I will try," he promised, though he knew that the moment he did, he'd see his brother's face again. Hear his voice, asking for death. 

"I have slept for many years, your Grace. If you find no rest tonight, you can at least find a friend." Allanon looked as though he might say something more, but there were other voices in the halls now and he quieted. Squeezed Ander's shoulder lightly. "We succeeded. Find some comfort in that."

"I know. I will try," Ander said again, bidding the Druid goodnight before retreating to his own chambers. The _King's_ chambers, as he needed to remind himself, because in spite of the alliance he'd built with the gnomes, in spite of the Dagda Mor's defeat, he still felt powerless. How much of a role had he truly played, after all?

~*~

"Join me," was the first thing that Allanon said to Ander the following morning. 

"Where are we going?" Ander almost wanted to resist, to test him, but it seemed he would follow the Druid anywhere he asked. It was trust, certainly, but he was beginning to think it may be something else besides. "I'm not ready to visit the sanctuary-"

"We're not going to the sanctuary."

_I thought it was your mission to force my hand, to make me do the things I think myself unfit for._

"I persuade, your Grace. Never mistake my counsel for your having no choice."

Ander frowned, striding to keep pace with Allanon. "Then don't mistake my presence for permission to read my thoughts."

A smile began to form on Allanon's lips, but he schooled it into his usual solemn expression and nodded, chastised. "My apologies." There was silence between them after that as they climbed a steep incline. Allanon looked back once as the hill levelled out, and stopped so abruptly a moment later that Ander almost collided with him.

"What are we..." 

Allanon looked out over Arborlon, the early sunlight blazing bright on the land below. As many times as Ander had seen it, it still took his breath away. "This is why all of our sacrifices were made."

"Sacrifices? What did we _give_ that wasn't taken?"

"You understood the risk as well as anyone, your Grace."

"That doesn't mean I understand why so much has been lost. My brothers, my father, my niece... Everyone I've loved."

"You will love again," Allanon said, fiercely. "You are loved already."

"The people are grateful that Arborlon and the Ellcrys endures. Gratitude isn't love."

Allanon frowned, reaching for Ander's shoulder but gripping his jaw instead. "Are you truly so afraid to be happy?" 

Ander stared into the Druid's dark eyes for a moment, the tips of his ears warm like a warning, and shook his head. "You'll be leaving soon. To seek out Bandon?"

"Bandon will not be found before he's ready. I will stay for now, and offer my counsel-"

"And what else?"

"Whatever else the King asks of me."

"Don't leave," Ander whispered, closing his eyes. "Not yet." He felt the brush of Allanon's thumb along his cheek, then the touch was gone. 

"You should visit the sanctuary," Allanon told him. "Your niece isn't lost, just because she isn't here with you. Go, I will find you again."

~*~

It was evening before the two of them next met. Ander had already been at the training ground for several hours of arduous exercise - it was one thing he'd found that could divert his attention from any other cravings - and the last of his sparring companions was leaving as Allanon arrived.

"I looked for you in the palace; they told me I would find you here, though you appear ready to retire."

Exhausted to his bones, all that Ander could do was nod, and take the flask of water that Allanon offered him. "Join me for supper?" he asked, after drinking.

"Of course."

~*~

"Is something wrong?" Ander asked, once they had eaten and were alone. "You've barely spoken since our return, so what is it?"

Allanon rose from his seat, because it was not in his nature to keep still for so long, and moved towards the empty fireplace. "You still don't trust yourself, even now."

Ander stayed silent, waiting for more. Certain there _was_ more. 

"It is the wiser choice, in most cases, but there are... You asked me not to leave, my King, and here I remain. You must know that you can trust in this. In me-"

"Of course. Any doubts I've had about you in the past were not my own. Allanon, _you_ must know that you are free to leave whenever you wish. I may be King here, but I'm not foolish enough to believe I truly have any power over you."

Allanon's eyes fell closed, and the smile that Ander had only ever seen hints of before was there, plain and true. "Is that what you think? You have had power over me from the moment I laid eyes on you. Everything I have done was for you."

" _Why?_ "

"You know why. All you have to do is trust in it."

"I need to rest," Ander said quickly, the warmth in his ears spreading too rapidly for him to think clearly. "Goodnight, Allanon."

~*~

Ander woke to moonlight in his eyes and a hand on his chest that pressed to stay him when he tried to sit up.

"Don't," Allanon growled, as Ander's mouth started to open. "There is nothing here that you need saving from."

"I can take care of myself, Druid."

"Then do so." 

It was a challenge, and Ander knew it as such, understood immediately what it was that Allanon wanted from him. 

Allanon's voice softened a little. "Stop waiting for someone else's permission. You know what the right path is here, you only need to take the first step."

Ander shifted, and Allanon's hand eased off, allowing him to move. His blood thrumming, Ander became acutely aware of his own skin, of the smell of the leather gloves that Allanon wore, of how laboured his breaths had already grown. "I'm afraid," he confessed, the weight of it still making his limbs feel too heavy.

"You have faced worse fears than this," Allanon reminded him, the same playful, knowing smile on his lips as had been there earlier.

"How can you be so certain that this is the right path?"

"Because I will walk it with you." 

Some desperate sound rose in Ander's throat, and he finally lifted his hand to reach, to curve his fingers around Allanon's head and feel the depth and shape of the scars in his skin. He let his thumb fall to touch the tip of Allanon's ear, surprised by its soft curve, surprised further by how the Druid reacted. "You tremble," he murmured, stroking the ear's outer shell to feel that shiver go through Allanon again, to see his eyes stutter closed. "This is what you want?"

"Still you doubt?" Allanon's laughter was low, and one of the sweetest sounds Ander had heard in many days. "My King," was whispered as Allanon leaned forward and Ander's lips parted but no kiss came, only the rough graze of Allanon's beard as he put his mouth to Ander's ear and simply touched it to the point. Ander's grip tightened, scars warming under his hand, and he tried to pull Allanon away because it was too much, it was a burning _ache_ in him. He wanted more. At the same time, he wanted to draw breath before the next touch.

"Is this magic?" he asked, feeling Allanon smile, lips parting to slide over his eartip, the sound of his reply no more than soft vibration. " _Allanon._ "

The slightest graze of teeth, and Ander felt as though he might fall to the sky and it was a struggle to open his eyes again, to see Allanon looking at him with something between amusement and arousal. 

"I was merely satisfying my own curiosity."

_Never tasted an elf's ear before?_

"You put the thought in my mind," Allanon said, a flash of guilt in his eyes. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's alright. I have nothing to hide, not from you." _You're in my bed, why should I not let you into my mind as well?_

"You trained hard today, why? We are not currently at war," Allanon reminded him, touching the tips of his fingers to a bruise on Ander's side. 

"Focus. I needed not to think, or to think only of one thing."

"I can help with that, my Grace."

Ander met the offer with a silent ask. He was rewarded with the weight of Allanon's body, the warm cradle of his hands holding Ander into a sudden, charged kiss. It took a moment for him to recover enough of his senses to respond, to clutch his fingers into Allanon's skin, into his hair, to open his mouth further to the rough invasion of Allanon's tongue. Fierce almost to the point of brutal, as though Allanon had been starving for this, for decades or more.

It eased, Allanon grinning wide against Ander's lips. "Forgive me. Am I too-"

"No," Ander told him. "Take off these damnable gloves, the clothes that you still wear. You have all of my skin, I would have all of yours."

"It seems you are learning after all."

"Do you mock me, Druid?" Ander asked, hissing softly as Allanon squeezed his side, the bruise there. 

"Never. I am always your loyal servant and advisor. I wonder, though... will you submit to me here, my King? Or is this the fight that you were training for?"

Ander's eyes fluttered closed at the next touch, his head falling back and into Allanon's hand. 

"Well?"

"You give me this power, and still I feel powerless... yes. To you," Ander clarified. "To you, I will submit."

"You are wise," Allanon whispered, pressing his mouth to Ander's throat. His teeth, his tongue, the pinch of it all lit Ander up anew, and how could Allanon have imagined he would do anything _but_ submit to this? He burned from toes to eartips, and as Allanon disrobed the fire grew ever hotter. The gloves were the last thing that Allanon removed, and Ander at once understood why.

"What happened here?" he asked breathlessly, closing his hand over Allanon's scarred, charred knuckles. "What price did you pay to defeat the Dagda Mor?"

Allanon kissed Ander's shoulder once more before replying. "There was no price too high to keep you safe. To keep Arborlon from crumbling to the ground."

"Allanon." 

"I am in no pain."

"Tell me the truth," Ander demanded, his fingers curving between Allanon's to lift the damaged hand to his lips. 

Allanon watched him closely, his features softened by the moon's light. "Ander," he muttered, his touch finding its way from dark bruise to the cut of Ander's hip, his thigh. "I am in no pain."

"Show me."

~*~

It seemed to take hours, though the slant of the moon was still there when Ander opened his eyes, grappling for Allanon's arm. His skin felt as delicate as ash, burnt to cinders under the heat of a hundred or more kisses. He felt bloody and raw as though being remade, shaped by Allanon's hands into something new. _Not only his hands_. He held on as Allanon rutted into him once again, a sharp and almost bereft sound coming from the Druid as the heat at his core poured from him. Ander felt it, felt his skin begin to crumble in the wake of every touch, felt Allanon's name on his lips and all the strength left him. He let himself fall, no longer afraid that he would shatter into nothing. If he was broken, Allanon would surely make him whole again.

"You are still here," Allanon said, voice pitched low and close as he gradually stilled between Ander's thighs. He was warm, slick with sweat and shadows, a beautiful beast of a man and Ander was captivated. They lay together for a time in silence, and though the air between them cooled, it was the only thing that did.

"Was this the way of men?" Ander asked, his brow creasing as Allanon shifted, left his body but stayed close still. 

"Not all. Was I too-"

"No." Ander shook his head, reaching to retrace the shape of Allanon's ear, and smiled. He still felt dazed, wanted everything and more, wanted Allanon inside him until the sun rose again, but they were words he couldn't seem to form. Words that only seemed to bring pain, any more. 

"You are exhausted still," Allanon observed. "You should rest."

"Will _you_?"

"I will try. I will not leave your side, Ander, have no fear."

"Maybe not tonight, but you will one day soon."

"Not yet." As if to drive his point home, Allanon wrapped a heavy arm over Ander even as he moved to lie beside him. "Go to sleep."

Ander closed his eyes, briefly fearful of what would be waiting for him there, but Allanon pulled him closer still and it seemed his body was a shield and a shelter, keeping bad thoughts at bay and offering comfort until Ander could do nothing but surrender to sleep.


End file.
